Undelivered Cargo
by Asamsaktha
Summary: Takes up where I left off with my end of Jaynestown fic, Don't Make No Sense. Sorta.
1. Chapter 1

**Undelivered Cargo**

Takes up about where I left off with my end-of-_Jaynestown _fic, **Don't Make No Sense**. Sorta.

**Disclaimer:** I make no claims as to nothin', be it intellectual property or financial gain.

* * *

Jayne found himself standing in the cargo bay, staring down at the weight bench. He considered the bench with a glower. It wasn't often that Jayne felt the need to clear his head, but when he did, he found there was no better way than the repetitive, almost meditative, motions of lifting. There was no room for thought when every fiber of muscle tissue was being strained to its limits. 

Jayne sat on the edge of the bench, elbows resting on his knees. Another dilemma confronted him. He was in the cargo bay alone. He couldn't lift alone, Mal would kill him. Not that he needed spotting, but still. The only one that could spot for him was Shepherd Book, and the Shepherd was about the last person Jayne wanted to see right now, after Canton. The preacher had a way of getting you to confess what was on your mind, and what was on Jayne's mind was eating at him.

Right sick of dilemmas, Jayne kicked angrily at the decking with a growl. The toe of his boot clanked loudly against an imposing-looking dumbell lying on the deck. He bent to pick up the dumbell.

"Fine," he grumbled, "don't need no help anyways if'n I'm not bench pressin'." The weights on the dumbell clinked against each other with a metallic ring as Jayne curled and uncurled his left arm rapidly. After a time, he switched arms. Countless repetitions later, he dropped the dumbell to the deck with a contented sigh. He braced his arms his knees and rolled his shoulders a few times. "There. That done feel a mite better already," he said to the empty cargo bay. "Don't need nobody after all."

Strangely, Jayne found himself unconvinced of this fact. Maybe the Shepherd would be able to help him make some sense of the Mudder mess. Jayne shook his head quickly to rid himself of the thought.

Standing, he moved to the handles clamped to the decking above his head to do pull-ups. Jayne stretched his arms out in front of him, hands linked, and cracked his knuckles. He wiped his hands on his pants, then stretched his arms above his head to grasp the handles. As he began to pull himself up, the door to the cargo bay grated open, and Shepherd Book appeared in the doorway, towel around his neck. His usual habit and collar had been replaced by a soft grey athletic t-shirt. Jayne quickly dismissed the slightly creepyfing feeling that Book had read his mind.

The Shepherd smiled at Jayne as he entered. "I was hoping I'd find you here. Perhaps when you're through...hanging around, you would spot me?" Book grinned at his own pun, which was entirely lost on Jayne.

Jayne lowered himself to the deck and looked at Book warily. "Sure, Shepherd. S'long as we can do it all quiet like. Not lookin' for no enlightnin' con-ver-sating right now." He moved to the bench and removed a couple of weights from the bar. "An' you can return the favor fer me when yer done."

Book nodded and undraped the towel from about his neck, laying it on a crate of cargo. "You've got yourself a deal." He lay back on the weight bench, and waited for Jayne to get in place to spot him. Jayne double-checked the fastenings that secured the weights to the bar, thumping the bar in satisfaction. He nodded to Book to begin. As Book lifted, Jayne followed the motion of the bar carefully with his eyes, arms at the ready to grab the bar if help was needed.

Book lifted in silence for a few moments. He glanced at Jayne, and was startled to find that rather than Jayne's attention being focused on spotting him, it seemed to be focused on one of the crates in the cargo bay. Jayne was scowling something fierce at the crate, as if he were trying to see inside.

With a final clank, Book hoisted the weight bar to its resting place on the supports. He grinned wryly as Jayne's arms continued to go up and down, as if he were still spotting.

"What's got your interest over there, Jayne?" he asked.

Jayne frowned as he realized his arms were still moving to follow the now-still weight bar. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Thought I heard somethin', some kinda noise over there," he said. "Like nails bein' pulled outta wood. This cargo ain't 'aposta be makin' no noise, from what I recollect. Just some protein rations. Though this crate ain't the same kind as th' others. Hrm."

"What did it sound like?" Book asked. He peered at the crate his towel was draped over. The lid looked slightly raised, but there was no sign of anything amiss that he could see. Under his towel, the words HANDLE WITH CARE were painted on the wooden lid in white paint.

Grabbing one of the smaller guns he'd laid on the decking next to the weight bench, Jayne slowly approached the crate.

"Maybe we should call the Captain, Jayne. I'm sure he'd want to know of any oddness with his cargo."

Jayne snorted. "Maybe it's another nekkid crazy girl inn a box! An' maybe this one won't have no fancified brother followin' her 'round." He grinned widely as his own joke, winking at Shepherd Book. "Cap'n got the last crazy girl, s'my turn this time."

"Jayne, I highly doubt..." Book began.

"Yeah yeah, I know, Shepherd. Girls in boxes don't just fall from th' sky, even if it do seem like it 'round here sometimes. Thank the Lord," he added, under his breath. Book fixed him with a dour glance.

The smile evaporated and he became all business as he approached the crate slowly. Gun held steady before him, he stopped a pace from the crate in question and motioned Book to stay quiet. He bent down noislessley, and placed his ear against the side of the wooden crate.

"Gorram," he breathed. "It sounds just like..."

Suddenly, the crate exploded outward in a shower of bits.

* * *

_ **A/N:** I have no idea where this is going yet; I have some dialogue that's been going through my head that I want to get out but there's no story attached to it as of yet. We'll see where it takes me!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for the feedback, always good to know people are reading. I changed my story idea pretty drastically a few times, once I figured out where I wanted it to go, so it might take me a bit between updates now. Anyway, here's what I came up with when I decided on a path to take. Enjoy!

* * *

Jayne lunged towards Book, knocking the aghast Shepherd to the ground. Immediately, Jayne was up, in a crouch, gun pointed at the crate.

"Shepherd, you ok?"

"...yes, I'm all right. I don't think that crate of rations fared so well though. What were you going to say, before it exploded?"

"I'm thinkin' that weren't protein rations in that crate, Shepherd. An' that weren't no 'splosion. You get the Cap'n, I'm gonna investigate."

Cautiously, Jayne approached the large crate. The lid was ajar, and there was a fairly large hole in the side of the crate. There was a clear lack of protein rations on the ground near the hole; in fact, the crate, from Jayne's vantage point, appeared empty.

"Jayne, maybe we should wait for the Captain and Zoë."

Jayne made a sharp shushing motion with his arm at the Shepherd. He glanced back at him briefly, and did a double-take. Book's hair had escaped its fastenings, and was waving about his head like a crazy white halo. He raised an eyebrow, then shifted his attention back to the crate. He cautiously approached. Sticking his head in a hole in a crate with God-knows-what inside wasn't the best idea, he realized, so he decided to pull the lid to see what was inside.

He slowly stood and lifted the lid away, gun at the ready. Book craned his neck to get a better look from his spot a few feet away. With a final jerk, the lid came off the crate with the squeak of metal nails being ripped from wood.

"_Ta ma de_!" Jayne yelled, dropping the lid and jumping back, gun raised.

"What? What's in there, Jayne!"

"It's a gorram _girl_," Jayne exclaimed. After a beat, he said "This one ain't nekkid though."

Book looked taken aback. "Thank Heaven for small favors." He edged towards the crate.

"...hello?" Book ventured. "Is anyone in there?" He hesitantly peered inside the crate, and knocked on the lid that Jayne had dropped.

Like a coiled spring, a young woman sprung up. Book jumped back in surprise, nearly crashing into Jayne.

"_Ta ma de!_" the girl exclaimed. "That was my _head_!" She scowled at Jayne, rubbing a growing bruise on her forehead. "You dropped the lid on my head!"

Jayne gaped. "What th'..." He shook his head as if to clear it. "Next time I go predictifyin' what's in boxes, somebody remin' me to predict large bags a' money..." he muttered.

Book extended a hand to help the girl out of the crate. Standing, the side of the crate came up to just above her waist. She looked healthy enough, though a bit pale and thin. And confused. Her short brown hair was spiky with dried mud. In fact, he could see dried mud streaking her upper arms, shoulders, face. She must be a Mudder, a stowaway from Higgin's Moon, he realized. This would certainly not set well with Jayne, after the Hero of Canton mess. Jayne had been trying to forget the Mudders, and now one had found its way onto _Serenity_.

_The Lord works in strange ways, _Book thought to himself. _Maybe this girl was sent to help Jayne._

"Are you okay, Miss? You look a bit banged up," Book asked. The incredulous look on Jayne's face grew.

"...is she a Mudder?" he exclaimed.

The girl ceased scowling at Jayne long enough to turn to the Shepherd. "I'm right 'nuff, sir." She looked around the cargo bay and fixed Jayne with a stare. "Or, reckon I was, till that _hwoon da _dropped the lid on my head." She turned her glare back to Jayne. "Who are you?" she asked warily.

Jayne had heard enough. "What?" He pushed forward, knocking Book aside. "Hey now, you're th' one a-trespassin' here, how bout YOU tell ME who YOU are, and what yer crazy Mudder _pi gu_ is doin' on our boat!"

Her scowl faltered somewhat, and a confused look crept over her face. The girl squared her thin shoulders and did her level best to resume her scowl. "Well, big man. That do be a good question now. Where am I?"

Book again reached for her hand to help her out of the crate, but Jayne swatted it away. "Stop tryin' to be a nursemaid, Shepherd, an' go get th' Cap'n and Zoë,will ya? An' you, girl. You ain't answered my _good question_ yet. Who are ya? And what in th' Seven Hells are ya doin' in a box in our cargo hold? Did we lose some kind of gorram Mudder lottery or somethin'?"

He reached into the box and grabbed both of her wrists in one of his hands. The girl, weakened by dehydration, struggled futilely, trying to kick at Jayne through the hole in the box. With his other hand, Jayne checked her for weapons. Immediately, he pulled out four knives, triumphant.

"What were ya gonna do with these, girl? Stab us all an' take over th' ship?"

"Of course not, ass. I can't fly no ship. But I could shoot you anyway. Still got two knives an' a gun on me," she said proudly.

Jayne raised his gun. "Give 'em over, girl! Don't make me go lookin' for them. You might be a smelly Mudder, but you got girl parts, an' I might _enjoy_ the search..." he leered.

"Leggo my arms, you ape, and I'll get 'em for you."

Jayne trained his large gun on her. "Slowly. I don't wanna mess up th' cargo bay wit' yer guts."

She made a scoffing noise, and before Jayne could see where they were coming from, she presented him with two knives and a tiny pistol. "Weren't plannin' on shootin' nobody," she said defensively.

"Jayne, go easy on the girl. If she came from Higgin's Moon, it's not surprising she had that many weapons on her. You know what Canton is like, and she's a young woman..." Book said as he walked to the far end of the bay to the comm. He kept wary eye on the small girl and the large mercenary. Jayne wasn't a patient man, and his patience with girls who raised more questions than they answered was even less.

"Higgin's Moon. Yes. I know that," she said in a puzzled voice. "So, where am I? And... who?" she asked.

Jayne leaned his face in close to the girl and glowered threateningly. He was cursing himself inside for letting an armed intruder get onto the ship, where she could hurt his crew. When she merely blinked, he slammed his hand on the top of the crate. "You're in a world of hurt if'n ya don't stop playin' and start talkin'. I wanna who ya are and how ya got here. I got a big gun and a bigger temper, and both is trained on ya right now. Our cap'n is on his way, an' he don't take kindly to no stowaways. 'Specially not womenfolk. We got a bad track record wit' them."

She frowned. "I guess I am a stowaway. You don't know me? I was hopin' you did."

Jayne exploded.

"No I don't know ya ya gorram it! Why th' hell would I be askin' ya if I knew? Yer the intruder here!" He scrubbed his free hand through his hair in frustration.

"Hm. Well, I sure don't seem to recall."

"Can't** recall**?" Jayne roared.

"You sure ask a lotta questions, big man. Can I get out of this box now?" she asked.

"You ain't answered a' one yet, and don't think I ain't noticed. An' no you can't get outta that box now! Now, let's start again." Jayne took a deep breath and a step back, trying to collect himself.

Book hurried back across the cargo bay. "I think she might have gotten might banged up in that crate. We did leave Higgin's Moon three days ago. That's a long time to go without food and water. Sounds to me like she may have amnesia. She's probably dehydrated and injured on top of it. Maybe I should call Simon down here too. Miss, you just sit tight, and we'll get you patched up and I'm sure the Captain will bring you right back home where you belong."

"Pretty certain I ain't gonna wanna go back to Higgin's Moon, mister, else why'd I be in this box inna first place? Thanks for the comfortin' though, appreciate it."

The cargo bay door opened with a clang, and Captain Malcom Reynolds and Zoë entered. "Who will I be takin' where, now, preacher?" Mal came to a sudden halt and his hand flew to his holster. Zoë sidestepped to avoid running into him, and immediately assumed a defensive stance. She gave Book's wild hair a wary sideways glance.

"Jayne, why is there a girl in a box in my cargo bay?" Mal asked, incredulously. "...a Mudder girl?"

The girl in the box laughed suddenly. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand when he whirled to face her and made her face impassive. "Jayne." A small snerk escaped from behind her hand. "_Jayne_ won't let me out of the box," she piped up, infusing the name Jayne with a sing-song lilt.

"Is that so. Jayne, care to 'splain why you're keepin'a girl in a box in my cargo bay?"

"You know the Cap'n's policy on 'No Pets', Jayne," Zoë deadpanned.

Jayne spluttered wordlessley.

The girl's face suddenly lit up. "Hey, maybe you know who I am, sir?" she asked the Captain.

"Reckon I don't, miss. Zoë, how come this Mudder stowaway can 'member to call me 'sir' when my own crew ain't able to?"

"Better breeding, sir?"

He shook his head wryly and turned back to the girl. "You sayin' you don't recall who you are, or how you got to be in a box in my cargo bay?"

"That I don't, sir. I know I'm from Higgin's Moon, that rang a bell. I don't 'member nothin' else, really, 'cept wakin' up in that box with my head hurtin' somethin' fierce. Dunno when that were, ain't much sense a' time in th' dark like that. Was 'fraid to make noise and be found, but I was gettin' might weak. So when I heard noises out there, I kicked out th' side a' the box. Then _Jayne_ dropped th' lid on my head."

"I see," Mal said thoughtfully. "So our Jayne is keepin' you in a box, and dropped a lid on your head." He looked at Jayne disapprovingly. Zoë stifled a snort.

"An' he manhandled me. I woulda told him I had weapons, wasn't plannin' on usin' them. Don't wanna hurt no one. Seems I must need 'em, where I'm from." She looked to Shepherd Book for support, and he nodded at the Captain reassuringly.

"He did what?" Mal asked, sounding aghast.

"I ain't keepin' her inna box! An' I hadda check her fer weapons." Jayne finally managed. "I thought she might be dangerous. Ain't everyday ya find girls in boxes. Gorram seem like it on this boat sometimes tho'." He paused, while Mal and Zoë exchanged an amused look. "An' I didn't wanna let her out till I was sure she weren't gonna try to kill us all an' steal the ship or nuthin'. I was waitin' on ya to see her fer yerself, Cap'n."

"She looks right fearsome, Jayne," Zoë said, voice choked with amusement. Mal's lips quirked in amsuement.

"Well gorramit! We find all sortsa crazy girls in boxes on this ship, didn't wanna be takin' no chances. Annaway, Shepherd an' I was liftin' when I heard a noise comin' from this here crate. I came over to check it out an' she musta heard me an' kicked th' side a' the crate out. I been tryin' to interr-o-gate her but she ain't co-operatin'. Says she don't 'member who she is. Looks like a Mudder refugee to me. We should turn 'round an' drop Her Smelliness back off on Higgin's Moon 'fore she gets ev'rythin all dirty."

"Let's see you spend three days inna box and come out smellin' like roses, _Jayne_," she taunted.

"Mal! Make her stop sayin' my name like that!" Jayne whined.

"Now now, children. Play nice, or I'll put you both in boxes," Mal said. He turned to Zoë and the two conferred together for a moment. Both agreed that, while disconcerting, the girl posed no real threat to them. Canton was a dirty, smelly, rough place, and she was probably just attempting to escape to find a less dirty, smelly, rough place.

"Well now miss. If I let you outta that box till we figure out what to do with you, you promise you ain't gonna kill us all?"

She nodded rapidly. "I promise, sir. Might not 'member who I am or what I be doin' inna box, but I'm right sure I ain't no killer."

"Well that's comfortin'. We'll have our doc check you over, an' maybe he'll be able to fix your head up so's you can 'member somethin' 'bout who you are. An' I bet you'll be wantin' some food and drink, after three days in that box."

"That'd be shiny," she said. She paused. "I could use a hand gettin' outta this box."

Mal reached into the box and gently lifted the girl out. Her large boots clanked on the decking when he set her down. She was surprisingly tall and thin. He saw she was wearing a sleeveless vest and ragged, baggy pants that ended just below her knee. Her boots, as well as most of her exposed skin and clothing, was covered in the mud that made Canton famous and gave Mudders their name. She distinctly needed a good bath.

"Thank you, sir. Wish I could introduce myself rightly, but... well, you know. But thank you for not shooting me." She shot a look at Jayne. 'Or letting _Jayne_ shoot me."

"Aw, it's nothin'. Don't go tellin' nobody..." Mal lowered his voice conspiratorially, "but I got a soft spot for plucky young women who can hide weapons from Jayne. Now let's get you to the med bay. An' then a shower."


End file.
